


safety

by Splashattack



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (slaps back of fic) this bad boy can hold so many queer platonic relationships, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Found Family, Gen, Literal Sleeping Together, Post-Canon, Sleepovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:34:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29165769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splashattack/pseuds/Splashattack
Summary: Sasha was safe her, curled among the slumbering forms of her family, and she was loved.There was no better feeling in the world.in which the author wants to find out how many qprs can be fit inside of a singular found family
Relationships: Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam & Sasha Racket, Sasha Racket & Everyone, The London and Other London Outstanding Mercenary Group | LOLOMG & Oscar Wilde, just everyone being a found family
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28
Collections: RQW Gift Exchange Jan. 2021





	safety

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iwillsithereandtrytocontribute](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillsithereandtrytocontribute/gifts).



> everyone go check out Jasper's profile (iwillsithereandtrytocontribute), they're just. scarily talented

There was something comforting about the quarantine cell, Sasha quickly decided. It was dim and dank, cramped and closeted, filled with the quiet breathing of her friends as they read or cleaned armor or tried to sleep. It was closer to Other London than Sasha had been in a very long time, and she felt herself instinctually retreating into the shadows of the back corner of the cell, content simply to watch.

Azu sat with her now-dull chestplate rested across her lap, and she scrubbed at its grooves with a rag, eyes half-closed and movements sluggish. Hamid held a book‒some posh, fancy thing‒loosely, tucked into Azu’s side and snoring softly. As Sasha watched, Azu untied a beaded strip of leather from her wrist and used it to mark Hamid’s page before setting it aside with a fond smile as if she’d done it a million times.

Grizzop, predictably enough, was having the hardest time with the confinement. He’d been pacing nearly non-stop since being put in confinement, and had long since shouted himself hoarse yelling for Wilde, though his restless, almost-panicked tension only continued to grow. He looked far too worked-up to be tired, but Sasha knew better, could read the exhaustion in his eyes plain as day. No matter how many times Hamid had promised that they were safe, that he trusted Zolf, Grizzop had still insisted on keeping watch the night before, and given how stressed he looked, Sasha doubted he’d settle for any less tonight.

“Not gonna be much use if you don’t sleep, mate,” she eventually stated, pushing herself lightly off the ground. Grizzop’s only response was to sigh in exasperation as Sasha made her way to the bed, settling just behind Azu’s head with her legs crossed and tucked beneath her.

“Right, I’ll just sit here an’ wake everyone if there’s an attack or somethin’,” she determined with a pointed look at the sleeping pair before her. “No use in us both bein’ awake, I guess.”

Grizzop huffed, but didn’t argue any further as he sank to the ground near Azu with a metallic clang and began to loosen the clasps of his armor. Without hesitation, Sasha leaned over from her perch on the corner of the bed and began to help, her fingers flying through the familiar motions.

By the time Grizzop was free of his armor, Azu was asleep, her chestplate resting against the mattress near Sasha’s knee. Grizzop burrowed underneath Azu’s arm until he was curled in a tight ball in her lap, his back pressed to Hamid’s.

Sasha pulled a thin dagger from a small compartment built into the sole of her boot‒a place not even Zolf had known to look‒and began flipping it end over end as she watched her sleeping family. It wasn’t a new arrangement: there was a comfort in knowing you were protected and warm and safe and _loved_ , and it was one they all found priceless.

Sasha wasn’t sure she’d ever before felt such security. Even with Brock, in their few golden moments of freedom, she was still trapped under Barret, was reminded of his control over her life with every glance at her hand.

Not any more, though. Her fingers remained ringless; her will remained her own. She may have been trapped, but it was with friends, by people she trusted, for reasons that she agreed with.

Sasha slipped the dagger back into its place in her boot and allowed a rare smile to spread across her face, bright and soft and embarrassingly fond. She pressed a quick kiss to the top of Azu’s head before leaning back and watching the hall outside the cell, allowing her smile to linger as she settled in for a long vigil. 

She was safe, and she was loved.

There was no better feeling in the world.

* * *

Sasha wasn’t entirely sure where she was meant to go. She held Grizzop’s hand firmly in her own, refusing to let go again, trying to focus on anything other than the indescribable dread she’d felt, seeing him buried in snow.

She’d found him in a place that was incredibly familiar: the hollowed-out buildings of Rome, a layout she had very recently become intimately acquainted with. It had an odd, almost illusionary quality, though: Sasha could swear that, just out the corner of her eye, that the ruins… _weren’t_ : he buildings were whole, decorated, cared for. The howls of the canine beasts inhabiting the city broke not the resounding silence she would have expected but the far-off buzz of comfortable chatter in a language she couldn’t quite place. Focussing on any of this caused it to slip just out of reach, which was both frustrating and exhausting but was still better than thinking about exactly _why_ Sasha was there in the first place.

Grizzop had agreed to come back with her. She might not know how to get there, but he would be fine. They both would.

Rome didn’t fade before she woke‒it was there, and then Sasha’s eyes were flying open, and she was lurching forward frantically, ignoring the numbness in her feet and the icy sand she sent flying.

Grizzop’s body was cold to the touch, and she watched with a detached fascination as the ice encasing retreated, centered around where she’d placed her hands on his chest. She searched his face, his hands, his legs‒ _anything_ ‒for movement, holding her breath and barely daring to blink the tears from her eyes.

After what felt like a lifetime, Sasha noticed the slightest puff of steam above Grizzop’s mouth, and she barely managed to restrain her cry of relief.

The walk to the bunkhouse after Meerk’s ceremony had passed in a blur, and Sasha wasn’t sure she’d actually been awake for the entirety of it. So much had happened, so quickly‒and on top of that, Grizzop’s afterlife had seemed to take much more from her than the other guides, though she didn’t have the faintest clue why. She eventually came to, still exhausted, tucked into a bed with a warm, heavy weight strewn across her stomach. Once‒so long ago, now‒it would have awoken a stirring of panic within her, but not now.

Sasha sat up, gently pushing the limp arm off. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she was able to take in her surroundings: a large but modest room, walls lined with empty bed frames. The mattresses had been shoved together in the center, with everyone lying together in what was almost a pile: Grizzop, moonlight reflecting off his snowy nails; Barnes and Carter, tangled together in a way that couldn’t have been comfortable; Wilde and Zolf, back-to-back; even the kobolds, who always preferred to sleep hidden, could be seen curled cat-like around Hamid and Cel.

Sasha lied back down, pressing her back against Grizzop’s extended legs and pulling Azu’s arm back across her waist, content to be sleeping with her family.

* * *

They’d tried to go their separate ways after the veins; really, they had. Azu and Hamid had gone to Cairo to help in the efforts to rebuild before flying back to the Northern Wastes with Kiko and Earhart. Letters had come frequently from Zolf and Wilde, who had decided to visit the Americas, and _infrequently_ from Cel, Barnes, and Carter, who were sailing to Greece to help with the excavation of a recently-discovered temple. Sasha and Grizzop, for their parts, ended up in Paris, training new recruits for the Harlequins. The excitement had worn off quickly, though, and eventually they’d all trickled back to Hamid’s apartment in London, somehow one of the few buildings that remained in one piece among a burnt city.

The apartment is cramped, with how many people live there, but none of them really mind. It’s perfect for them, really: closets converted into places for the kobolds to sleep; a ladder installed right outside the window for Sasha; the smell of Zolf’s cooking in the mornings and the sound of WIlde’s pen scratching on paper in the evenings and Azu’s gentle humming when they can’t sleep.

They fight, sometimes, but it’s nothing like what Sasha grew up with. It’s calm voices, gentle touches. They fight, but they aren’t ever _mad_ , and even if they were, Sasha wouldn’t be worried about her family splitting up. They’re a broken puzzle, yes, but they still fit _together_ , and Sasha would trade the world for the acceptance and love she’s found.


End file.
